


Bullheaded Ambition

by GreyLiliy



Category: RWBY
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Blood and Violence, Character Death, Drama, Gen, Horror, Obsessive Behavior, Possessive Behavior, Thriller
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-01-23
Updated: 2019-01-26
Packaged: 2019-10-14 20:06:25
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,626
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17515145
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GreyLiliy/pseuds/GreyLiliy
Summary: Adam said that he would destroy everything that Blake loved and he intends to see that mission through to the end.





	1. The Belladonnas

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I haven’t seen RWBY Vol. 6 yet, but I’ve seen spoilers and that doesn’t matter because this canon diverges after Volume 3 (though I’ll be using what spoilers I’ve seen from Volume 6 for a few moments). This is one hundred percent a Vent fic that’s doubling as a fun chance to write some genuine horror. 
> 
> It’s a petty prompt, but I’m treating it seriously, in other words. I honestly have sincerely missed that casual, cold, bad ass version of Adam we saw at the end of Volume 3. The guy was a monster and I wish we got to see more of it.
> 
> I’m taking a few liberties with timelines (I like Hazel getting stuck with Adam), but it’s canon divergence so that should be expected. Thank you for reading and enjoy!

Blake stopped in front of her house.

“Wow,” Sun said. He swallowed and reached his hand up to touch the yellow warning tape crossed across the entrance at the bottom of the stairs. He pushed it down, standing on his tiptoes to look further down the blocked bath. “What happened here?”

“I don’t know,” Blake said. Her parents would never barricade their house like this. They always were available to anyone in Menagerie who might need them. Blake ripped the tape away and up the steps to the front door. “But I’m going to find out.”

“Stop!” A voice cried out.

Blake turned and saw two members dressed in White Fang garb jogging down the road to the house. Sun moved to a defensive position, but stayed at the ready instead of acting. The two caught their breath and straightened.

“Who are you two?” Sun asked.

Blake stayed on the stairs, aware of her weapon on her back.

“Corsac,” the one with the tail pointed to himself. He indicated his companion with tall fox ears and said, “and Fennec Albain. We are members of the White Fang. You are Miss Blake Belladonna, are you not?”

“Yes, but I have nothing to do with the White Fang,” Blake said. What were they doing at her parents’ house? “And I want nothing to do with you.”

“Be that as it may, please listen to us.” Corsac held his hand up, his tail swishing behind him. “Miss Belladonna, you do not want to go inside. There’s still an investigation going on and it is best to leave things as they are.”

“Investigation?”

“Perhaps we should go somewhere and sit down,” Fennec said. He folded his hands together, his ears falling back. “We had hoped to send you a message when we had more information, but perhaps it is fortuitous that you’ve come for a visit now so we may tell you in person.”

Blake felt something twist in her stomach. “Tell me what?”

“We really should go inside were you can sit down,” Corsac said. He reached out to put his hand on her arm, his tail curling near his body. “Please, come with us.”

“No, I came to see my parents and that’s what I’m going to do,” Blake said, smacking his hand away. She took a few fearful steps away, refusing to believe the pitying gaze aimed at her. Hurtful words and buried guilt disappeared in her panic as the bad feeling in her stomach grew. She turned and ran toward the door, ignoring Sun call after her. Blake threw open the door and yelled, “Mom! Dad!”

Silence.

Blake felt a chill in the house, swallowing as she walked through the rooms. Everything looked as it did when she last left, but there was an empty feeling that clung to her steps.

“Mom? Dad?”

She turned on a light in the next room, her eyes sweeping across the surface hoping to see her mother drinking a cup of tea or her father at his desk. Blake felt her breath pick up and picked up her pace as she regretted the large size of her house. She looked in every room, but she didn’t find them.

Not a trace of her parents existed aside from a set of clothes set out on the bed, waiting for their owner to come and change into them.

“Blake,” Sun said. His voice sounded thick in his throat and he clenched his hands into fists. Sun walked forward until he reached Blake, where he pulled her into a tight hug. He squeezed and whispered, “I’m so sorry, but you really need to listen to those two outside.”

He took her hand and led her back down the entrance stairs to the waiting White Fang members.

“Where are my parents?” Blake demanded. Corsac and Fennec shared a look that spoke a thousand unsaid words. Sun looked away and crossed his arms. Blake raised her voice. “Where are they?”

“It is out deepest regret to inform you that your parents have passed, Miss Belladonna,” Corsac said. He lowered his head and looked to the side, putting his hand over his mouth. “They were murdered two days ago.”

“No,” Blake said, shaking her head. “That’s not possible. My father is one of the strongest men I’ve ever met! How could anyone murder him?”

“When we find the culprits, we’ll have to make sure to ask,” Fennec said, his ears flicking. “As it stands now, we only know that he was poisoned while out at a restaurant eating. We are unsure of a motive and have no leads.”

“A horrible tragedy,” Corsac added.

“I don’t believe you,” Blake said, shaking her head. Her ears fell flat against her head and she felt her breath pick up. “That’s not true. This is Menagerie! It’s safe and peaceful! Everyone loves my father. Who would do this?”

“We do not know,” Corsac said.

Fennec finished, “But we assure you we will find out.”

“I need to see this for myself,” Blake said, her voice choking in her throat. “Where are they?”

“Their bodies are being held by the local authorities as they investigate,” Corsac said. “I’m sure they will grant you access.”

Blake sucked in a breath and walked the rest of the way down the stairs. “Come on, Sun.”

“Right behind you,” Sun said.

* * *

Corsac and Fennec watched Miss Belladonna and her scruffy companion walk back down the street toward the main part of the town.

“So that was Miss Belladonna,” Corsac said. He turned his head toward his brother and smiled under his breath. “She’s rather lovely.”

“Such a shame she as acquired his wrath,” Fennec said. He tilted his head to the side. “Shall we inform Brother Adam that the work has been completed?”

“Yes,” Corsac said. He turned and put the tape back up over the entrance of the empty mansion and dusted off his hands. “And afterwards, we’ll encourage the young mistress to return to the mainland. The sooner Brother Adam gets this subsection of revenge out of the way, the sooner he’ll turn his attention back to the White Fang.”

Fennec nodded. “After you, brother.”

* * *

Sun stayed along the back wall, his head down and his hands in fists.

Blake sobbed, raw and mouth open, wrapping her arms around herself as she fell to her knees. She rocked, leaning forward until her head rested against the leg of the exam bed.

“I didn’t get to tell them I’m sorry,” she said, soft and to herself. The tears poured down her face and her ears were so flat against her head they disappeared in her hair. Blake’s breath shuddered. “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.”

“I’ll be outside,” Sun whispered.

He shouldn’t be watching such a private moment.

Sun waited outside the room on a bench for another twenty minutes before Blake stumbled out and joined him.

“Hey,” he said. He put an arm around her shoulder and dragged her over. Blake rested her head on Sun’s shoulder and exhaled. Sun rubbed her arm. “Do you want to find a hotel or something to rest?”

Blake shook her head. “I’m going home.”

“Is that a good idea?” Sun asked. “The house’ll be so empty.”

“That’s why I need to go,” Blake said. She folded her hands in her lap and breathed out. Sun squeezed her closer, unable to comprehend what she could be feeling right now. “It’s my home, Sun.”

“If that’s what you want.”

They sat in silence for a few minutes more before Blake leaned away. Sun put his hands back in his lap and she sat up straighter, her shoulders square.

“I don’t understand, Sun,” she said. Her grief turned to confusion as she stared at the floor. “Who would do this? Everyone, and I mean everyone, adored my parents. No one would want to hurt them.”

“Sometimes people are just rotten.”

“But who’s that rotten?” Blake asked again. She clenched her hands into fists and gritted her teeth. “Even Adam respect—”

Blake cut herself off, sucking a harsh breath through her teeth. She shivered and her entire body froze.

Sun put his hand on hers. “Blake?”

“He said he’d destroy everything I loved,” Blake whispered. She put her hands over her mouth and leaned forward. Blake’s eyes were wide in terror. “He’s behind this. He has to be.”

“Who?”

“Adam.”

* * *

“Why are we in Patch?” Hazel asked, stomping behind his bratty charge. The selfish, egotistical Faunus wasn’t exactly his idea of good company, but Salem had assigned the boy to him, so he had to stick with the brat. “There’s nothing out here.”

“On the contrary,” he said, stopping in front of a small house. He checked a note he’d scribbled on a small piece of paper with an address and turned over his shoulder. Adam shoved the paper in a pouch and grinned in self satisfaction. “I have unfinished business here.”

He put his hand on the hilt of his sword and walked toward the house, the tail of his coat swishing behind him.

Hazel crossed his arms and followed.

He had no intention of aiding the boy in his personal vendetta, but he would be there to drag him out of trouble if it took a turn for the worst.

Salem had plans and he was going to see them through.


	2. Yang Xiao Long

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Despite the basic premise of this fic, I would like to mention that there’s not going to be any character hate. I’m killing off nearly the entire cast, but that doesn’t mean I dislike anyone.
> 
> *pats Yang* I’m almost upset she’s up so soon on the list, but she was the one that made the most sense. Either way, I think the chapter turned out well and I’m remembering how difficult fight scenes are to write.
> 
> I hope you enjoy it and thank you for reading.

Yang snapped awake with a sharp inhale that hurt her chest.

She sat up and leaned forward, her hair tumbling over shoulder. Yang pressed her lips together and looked around her room. The light from the window made everything too bright and did nothing to settle the growing unease in her stomach.

Nightmares must have woken her again, but Yang wasn’t sure. She usually remembered them, but not this time.

The quiet house surrounded her and she shoved her blankets aside. Yang put her bare feet on the floor and shivered from the chill of the wood. She rubbed the top of her thigh to build up friction and got out of bed. Yang tugged on her cargo pants and shirt, wincing at the time as she glanced at the clock.

“Dad?” Yang called.

She took a few steps down the stairs, curious at the lack of sound. With Ruby gone, their father tended to make more noise to make the house feel like there were people in it. While Yang was still home, she could admit she’d kept to herself.

At noon, he’d be humming loudly to himself in the kitchen, muttering under his breath as he made lunch.

“Atlas made, huh?”

The red haired man stood in the middle of her living room—different outfit, he was real, different outfit—holding the arm she’d yet to take out of the box.

The Faunus tossed the limp arm back on the table, turning to face Yang. His face remained hidden behind the half mask, refusing to show his eyes through the small slits.

“What are you doing here?” Yang gritted her teeth and clenched her hand into a fist. She masked the tremble with her anger and snarled. Her eyes darted around the room, looking for a sign of her father. “Who even are you?”

“I shouldn’t be surprised Blake didn’t mention me,” the man said, snorting and shaking his head. He dropped his hand on the edge of his weapon and his stance straightened. “And I’m here to finish what I started.”

He kicked the coffee table, jarring it hard enough that her arm fell off the edge and clattered to the ground.

“Like I’d let you.” Yang said.

She turned and ran up the stairs, straight into the hallway. She couldn’t face him one on one while he was armed. But if she could get to her gauntlets and catch him off guard.

Yang ignored the phantom pain that awoke from the sight of the man that took her arm. She could feel the sting of the cut and her non-existent fingers twitching. Yang swallowed her nerves and listened for any sign she was followed.

“Get a grip,” Yang yelled to herself. “You’ve got this.”

She ran into her room grabbing her gauntlet and shutting the door behind her with a slam. She turned it to the right angle and placed her hand inside. Yang slammed it into the top of her dresser to activate it and went for the bedroom window after shoving on a pair of shoes.

She leaped from her window, landing in the soft grass of her backyard.

There was still no sign of her father.

Yang refused to think about what that could mean.

With no sign of the intruder in the yard, Yang ran around the house, keeping low so he wouldn’t see her past the windows. A one-on-one confrontation would need to be on Yang’s terms if she had any hope of catching him off guard.

She stayed low near the open front door, keeping her breath low. If she kept the fight in the house, it would give her the advantage. Hopefully he’d given up on waiting for Yang to come back down and had gone upstairs looking. He should have heard the door slam and assumed she barricaded herself inside.

If she caught him in the back, she could get a good punch in and work fast to disarm him fast.

No more running in.

Yang steadied her breathing and focused.

Time to move.

Yang stayed with her back against the wall and shook her head. She twisted her hand into a fist, still ignoring the pulsing, aching pain that shot up her other side.

She needed to move.

Go in. Deck him. Get the sword. Find her dad.

Yang had a plan.

Her knees stayed rooted in the dirt and her hand shook so hard her gauntlets rattled.

“No,” Yang mouthed. She gritted her teeth and shoved the haunting images of the glowing red outlines of her attacker to the farthest reaches of her mind. He was an opponent just like any other. Yang kept her voice trapped in her throat and mouthed, “Do it!”

Gathering her courage, Yang turned the corner and went back inside.

She tripped over the body in the doorway.

* * *

“No!”

Adam turned over his shoulder at the agonized shout that came from downstairs. He left the bedroom he’d been searching, shoving the note left on the desk into his pocket as he went.

“Where are you, monster?” The woman screamed, the rage in her voice screaming with intent. A loud crash sounded from downstairs that he could only guess came from the coffee table. “Get out here!”

The girl found her father.

The top stair creaked under his foot when he touched it and the girl locked onto the sound. She came into view, her rage making her entire body glow and her eyes were as red as his own hair.

Blood stained her shirt and pants, smeared and stained from the corpse of the human man who’d answered the door to a sword in his throat.

“I’ll kill you!” She screamed, running up the stairs. Adam drew his sword and swung, but she ducked low and kicked up. “That won’t work twice, you ass!”

Adam spit as her heel slammed into his gut. He slammed his arm onto the wall to catch himself and jumped up into a flip. He tapped off the low ceiling to get behind her and swung his sword again. She blocked it with her gauntlet and kicked off the stairs to knock them both down.

They tumbled to the bottom, both rolling to their feet.

The brawl resumed, sword to gauntlet and shout to shout, until the fight crashed through the large bay window. The open space of the yard gave them more room to move and he had to give credit where credit was due: the human’s rage overcompensated for her sloppy fighting technique, still unused to being off balance without her arm.

“What do you even want?” she yelled, uppercutting the ground to throw dirt in Adam’s face. He thanked his mask for blocking the brunt of it and her unknowingly throwing the majority of it toward his blind eye, making the move mostly useless. It gave him the opportunity to block the next punch with his sword. It glowed with the granted energy, matching her still furious eyes. “What are you getting from all this?”

“Nothing.”

He darted back and struck, swinging his sword at her side with all the speed he could muster. The woman raised her stub, remembering too late that there was no limb to block the hit.

Cutting through the air, the sword slammed into her side and he threw her into the side of the house. She grunted as she hit the ground on the wrong side and she got to her knees as Adam sheathed his sword once more.

He watched the crackle of her Aura dissipate and ran.

Adam’s speed won out and he shot his sword from his sheath, swinging it hard enough to slice her throat.

She gasped her fingers hovering over the bleeding wound before her eyes blinked back to purple and she pitched forward. The woman landed on her side with two last watery gasps before it ended.

* * *

Hazel watched as his charge cleaned his sword before walking over to the dead woman.

He had watched the entire ordeal from the sidelines, disgusted at the lack of warning or sportsmanship when Adam killed the man before the door had finished opening. The fight itself had been fast, but intense. He felt pride in the dead woman that she’d forced Adam to struggle.

The man in question reached down and dug through the woman’s pockets before he tugged out a hair tie. Hazel left his spot across the front yard and approached to see Adam tie her hair in a neat ponytail.

“What are you doing?”

“Getting proof,” Adam said. He used his sword to cut away the hair close to her scalp, keeping a strong grip on the golden lock of hair. Adam tightened the binding to make sure the hair stayed secure and tied it to his side, where it knocked against his leg under the wide sash that hung from his belt. Adam turned away from the house, his shoulders tight as he left the two humans behind. “I want to see the look on Blake’s face when she realizes her huntress friend is dead.”

Hazel snorted and followed the man. “Just admit you’re taking a trophy home.”

“It’s not a trophy,” the man hissed. His body tensed, however, and he heard the growl in his voice. “I don’t get the joy of having Blake her to see the woman’s death in person, so this will have to do.”

“Still though,” Hazel said, glancing back toward the house. “While I can respect and understand your need for revenge, was killing the father necessary? The excess bloodshed ruins your cause.”

“I did him a mercy,” Adam said. He kept walking, the golden hair peaking out from under the sash every other step. “He didn’t have to see the death of his daughter, now did he?”

“So you left the body out in the open so the daughter would see? You could have killed her without her knowing her father had been killed.”

“I said I would destroy everything that Blake loved,” Adam said. He tightened his hand into a fist and his pace picked up. The excess energy from the fight had yet to leave him. Dirt still sullied his mask and jacket. “Killing her friends alone isn’t enough.”

Hazel shook his head and counted his blessings Adam at least had a sense of duty about him.

He wasn’t sure he could handle dealing with a second Tyrian.

“Where are we headed now? Don’t forget that you promised Salem results with the White Fang,” Hazel said. “She’s patient, but she will check in soon.”

“I’ve already taken steps to get both what she wants and what I want,” Adam said. “With the old leaders of the White Fang murdered, that’ll throw the current group into chaos. If my subordinates did their job right, it’ll look like a human did it.”

Hazel exhaled. He could report that as progress if Salem contacted them, which meant they were fine for the moment. “Where to next?”

“Mistral,” Adam said. He pulled a folded note out of his pocket and handed it back to Hazel. He read over the note in clean handwriting, frowning hard. “Blake had three teammates and that one left a handy note to let us know where she was going.”

“You’d better hurry if you want to kill this one,” Hazel said, looking over the name. He could see Cinder’s furious face and the girl’s red cape in the monitors from the footage they’d watched at the fall of Beacon. The silver eyed maiden was sure to be trouble, though if he was lucky, not trouble he had to deal with. “You’ve got competition.”

Adam stopped and turned, tilting his head to the side as he looked up at Hazel. “What do you mean?”

“Salem wants this girl dead more than you,” Hazel admitted. He pocketed the note and stared down at the shorter man. “She sent my deranged associate Tyrian after her and he makes murder an art form. Nothing brings that man more joy than bloodshed and death.”

“As long as she dies, it’s all the same,” Adam said. He returned to the casual stroll, something calmer overtaking his form. “But I’m going to make sure the job gets done myself.”

Hazel grunted in response, focusing on the path ahead as they walked toward the train station.

Things were going to get interesting when Adam met Tyrian.


End file.
